


Wild Ride

by coaster



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 1872
Genre: Accidental Bondage, Blow Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:04:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7076221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coaster/pseuds/coaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is the damsel tied to the rails and Sheriff Steve Rogers is here to save him.</p><p>~</p><p>Sheriff Steve Rogers is here to <i>ravish</i> him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild Ride

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Bondage square on my 2016 Cap-Iron Man Bingo Card. This story happens in the handwavey time before the canon events.
> 
> A billion thanks to [morphia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/morphia) for beta reading this, for the title, and for teaching me a number of things along the way! Any remaining mistakes are my own.

 

 

It was just past noon and the sun was beating down onto the dusty land. Steve walked on with only his hat and a small hip flask keeping him from drying out.

The smoldering ruins of the train was over a mile behind him. Steve could still see the grey smoke rising, signalling to everyone in a ten mile radius. Better the smoke cloud back there than a smoke cloud hovering over the ruins of Timely. Fisk was a child in that regard; that man would destroy all that he couldn't control. And like a child, the plan to run a train full of explosives through Timely was ludicrous yet frightfully simple. Unlike a child, Fisk also had goons to guard the train against Steve's meddling.

Steve had made short work of them and come out on top. Barely.

He almost thought he could see Timely in the distance but he knew he was still at least five miles out, if he was reading the patches of drying bushes and grasses around the single rail line correctly. After another half a mile, the sun disappeared behind clouds and his horse still hadn't caught up to him.

After yet another half mile, he thought he saw something on top of the rails. He quickened his steps and after a minute, he could make out something that looked like the powder blue of Stark's favorite suit. The figure was wriggling, the movement now unmistakable as Stark's, and Steve almost fell over from the panic that rose up this throat.

He had left Stark in charge of evacuating the town while he rode on to catch the train. Fisk must have somehow gotten to Stark. If Steve had been any slower in stopping the train—

He shook his head. There was no point in dwelling on it. The train was wrecked and miles behind, and Timely, evacuated or not, was safe for the moment. He called out to Stark then broke into a slow run.

As he closed the distance, he saw the exact moment Stark's body relaxed; Steve's silhouette must've been distinctive enough to recognize. He removed his hat and gave it a wave with a shout. As he jogged closer and closer still, he let himself take amusement from the way Stark was trying to lay himself out casually, like the man was trying to convince Steve he was out here tied to the rails like just another noon. Making his way to stand over Stark, Steve had to admit it looked almost convincing.

Stark had one wrist free from the rough ropes, placed under his head as if he were simply relaxing upon it. The other wrist was still bound to the iron rails above his head and each of his ankles were bound separately to the irons on the other side. If it wasn't for the bruises on his cheek, the abraded skin at his jaw, and the rough tangle of his clothes from his struggles, Steve would've been convinced. It didn't look like Stark was in pain and there was no blood visible – Steve breathed a sigh of relief. He dropped to his knees at Stark's bound feet and really let himself relax. Stark was far from getting free and Steve truly didn't want to think about what would have happened if he hadn't stopped the locomotive in time.

He looked up with a squint when a booted foot nudged his knee.

"I take it our small town isn't on track to be reduced to cinders?" Stark asked sunnily.

Steve shook his head. "Got 'em all, and none of them'll be comin' back any time soon." He indicated Stark's entire body from head to toe. "They roughed you up?"

"I am, as you see, immobilized and lightly beaten. I've been better but also a good deal worse. Now cut me free with that whittling knife of yours."

Steve sighed again and reached for the perfectly fine knife in this back pouch. He opened his flask of water and placed it beside Stark before tending to the hemp ropes.

"A big baldy with a bowler hat got to me," Stark said, conversational. "I managed to get to the Bartons before he knocked me down, tied me up, then left me here and rode on towards you. Did you see him, by chance?"

Steve grunted and nodded, still sawing his way through the ropes binding the first ankle. He remembered punching a giant, bald man with a bowler hat off the side of the carriage. Steve should've punched him harder. Baldy might even be dead from the fall. Steve didn't particularly care at the moment, considering. Stark, meanwhile, continued to ramble on about nothing in particular.

It took more sawing than Steve would have liked to free Stark's ankles. He tucked his knife away and sat back on his haunches to watch as Stark stretched his legs and rolled his ankles to put the blood back into them.

When he was satisfied, Stark rearranged himself, legs bent at the knee, looking more like a carefree man sunning himself. He wriggled his hips then raised an eyebrow at Steve and twisted his remaining bound wrist in askance.

The hardness in Steve's pants from the fight aboard the train now returned for an entirely different reason. He leaned forward and rested his chin upon his arms atop Stark's knees, thinking.

On the one hand, they were out in the middle of nowhere on top of the rail line with the sun still flickering through the clouds. Someone might have noticed the explosions – the townspeople perhaps – and riders could come by them any minute. On the other hand, Fisk's men shouldn't be a problem anymore and neither should the explosives the locomotive had been hauling. They would be able to feel an approaching train through the vibrations in the iron and it should be easy enough to cut Stark's wrist free in time. And Stark was bound and vulnerable and there was a patch of tanned skin just peeking at him just above Stark's pants, just enough to see a dark trail of hair…

Stark licked his lips, a slow drag of tongue, leaving them moistened and shiny. The scales tipped towards the other hand.

Steve pushed Stark's legs apart just enough to get between them and braced himself over Stark, a smile on his face. "I'm gonna pay that favor I owe ya," he said cheerily. "Right now. Objections?"

Stark didn't miss a beat, a sly smile of his own curled on his lips beneath his bushy mustache. "Why Sheriff, my dashing hero, ravishing your damsel right here and now? Who am I to refuse such an offer." He finished by wrapping his legs around Steve and pulling them flush together. Steve dropped to his elbows and pressed his cheek against Stark's, groaning at the pressure on his cock.

Stark ground up against him, one arm and two legs wound tight around Steve as he continued to move his hips in languid rolls. Steve took the moment to enjoy the ride, wrapped in Stark's warmth with bristly kisses breathed onto his cheek. He could feel Tony growing hard between them with every roll of hips. If this were any other time, he would let Stark do whatever he wanted. If they were in any other place, he might be inside Stark already. Stark could have been inside him already…

Steve shook himself back into control and pushed away with effort, earning himself a silly pout. He had plans and desperate rutting was not one of them.

He eyed the pitted plank of wood Stark was resting his head on. Taking a quick mental inventory of himself, Steve settled on his hat and looped it over his head from his back. He lifted Stark's head gently, the dark curls of hair tickling his palms, and placed the hat underneath. "Hold on to my hat, darlin'," he murmured.

Stark's eyes softened at the gesture. "Am I your darling now?" he said with a tilt of his head. "I might just get used to this damsel business."

Steve nudged Stark's nose with his own. "You're no damsel, Stark," he said softly. He planted a firm hand on Stark's chest and moved down to finally – _finally –_ get his mouth on that patch of skin that had been calling to him since he'd gotten here. Stark made a noise of protest and it was easy enough for Steve to pin down the one free hand that tried to tug him back up. Steve was going to be the one doing the handling today.

Steve wasn't one to lie to himself – he liked it when Stark took control. He liked it when Stark put on a show for him, satisfied him with theatrical moans like he was doing now. But the idea of having him bound and unable to wrestle control away like he usually did was something Steve never really thought about until this moment. He was usually the one to be taken apart by a clever mouth and fingers. This time, however, he was going to be the one wringing honest noises out of Stark's throat.

He shifted to balance himself then brought his hand down to cup the bulge in Stark's pants, giving it a firm rub. Stark whined – so _needy_ – and Steve caved at the sound. He moved up to give Stark a brief but deep kiss.

"You have objections after all?"

"We're alone," Stark said, leaning up until their lips brushed with the words. "It's Tony."

Steve huffed. Of course. Old habits. He gave Tony one last peck on the lips then moved down to his intended target. Tony's cock was straining against the blue wool of his pants and Steve didn't know if he wanted to see it leaking for him or to taste it leaking for him. Likely both, he thought.

He flicked open the buttons of Tony's pants and white drawers with practiced fingers.

"Oh Lord, Steve, you're serious."

Steve chuckled at Tony's balled up but delighted expression. "Incoming trains, incoming riders, incoming sun, take your pick." He leaned in, a hand slowly massaging at Tony's groin, freeing Tony's cock from the flaps of cloth. "But I betcha I can finish you off within a solid minute."

Tony thumped his head back onto the hat with a groan. Steve pressed a palm down onto the hot skin of Tony's cock and drew out another loud moan from Tony.

"Ravish away, Steve," Tony said, a hitch in his breath. "One minute, or you'll be owing me another favor."

Steve crawled up to give Tony a small kiss beneath his jaw then lowered himself back down to suck in the tip of Tony's cock without preamble. Tony's hip jumped and a colorful string of curses reached Steve's ears. He snaked an arm under one of Tony's shaking thighs and gripped it tight, holding Tony still. He felt fingers latch onto his hair tightly with no leverage by itself and from this angle.

Smiling around his mouthful of heated skin, he closed his eyes, cast away the rickety iron rails and the red desert around them, ignored the almost painful tightness of his own pants, and focused on the taste of Tony.

This close, he could smell the sooty, metallic tang that always hovered around Tony. He slid off and teased at the skin under the head with his lips where Tony was most sensitive. It earned him a sharp intake of breath and a hard tug at his scalp. With his free hand, he reached up and under Tony's shirts to rub soothingly at Tony's chest. Tony's breathing slowed just a little, his thighs relaxing. Steve gave the side of Tony's cock a sloppy kiss then dove down, sheathing his mouth upon Tony's girth until his nose bumped wiry hair and skin.

Tony gasped, wordless, and Steve swallowed around the shaft, his mouth and throat slick with saliva. He massaged Tony's thigh, feeling the muscles tense as Tony tried to thrust but couldn't.

He pulled back slowly, letting his tongue drag along the pulsing vein. He gave the tip a small suck and a kiss. More droplets of precum gathered at the tip, a lovely shine on the olive of Tony's skin. Steve grinned at the sight. He was getting there slowly, but surely. Even as he licked the droplets away, Tony continued to leak, and Steve lapped up every precious drop until Tony was moaning and shaking again.

"Steve… thirty-five seconds left…"

Tony was still too coherent. Steve mouthed his way down the side of the shaft. He let his hair catch on the wet skin as he sucked and licked his way to the base then pulled back and took Tony right into his throat with one slide.

Tony let out a strangled yell, hand twisting in Steve's hair. Steve swallowed around the hot stretch in his throat and earned himself another yell. He pulled back a little and started a ruthless pace, moving up and down Tony's cock until his saliva started pooling and easing the way for him. The slick sound of skin sliding on skin grew louder and louder with every bump of Tony's cock at the back of his throat and Tony's hand wound tighter and tighter in his hair.

Tony's panting turned into broken gasps and Steve knew he was almost there. He withdrew his hand from where he was feeling Tony's thudding heart and started to fondle Tony's balls. The raw shout of pleasure that reached his ears was sweeter than any honey.

He continued his pace, now sucking hard with every stroke. Tony was quivering in his hold, letting out an endless stream of breathless moans. Steve pulled back one last time then took a deep breath and let Tony sink deep into this throat again. He pressed his tongue along the underside, rubbing the vein roughly, and he swallowed hard while teasing on the skin behind Tony's balls at the same time.

Tony came with a cry, muscles taut and back arching. Steve felt the rush of hot semen down his throat and he squeezed his eyes closed as Tony twitched in his mouth and came and came.

When he started feeling light-headed, he pulled off and fell forward to rest his forehead on Tony's heaving belly. He felt a soothing hand running through his hair as he caught his own breath. He thought he did a stellar job, all around.

"Two seconds to spare," he said. His voice was hoarse but he couldn't care any less – he did get some good, honest noises out of Tony. Tony's belly shook in an answering laugh.

The tightness in his pants now returned in full force and Steve moaned softly as he shifted his weight off his sore knees. The hand in his hair left after a minute and Steve nuzzled into the warmth of Tony's belly, framed by Tony's legs and hugging tight onto Tony's waist. His cock was still achingly hard in his pants.

Before Steve could make his predicament heard, he was tumbled sideways to the ground with Tony's thighs still clamped around his chest. He found himself staring up at the grey sky haloed around the brim of his hat on Tony's head. The taste of Tony was still on his tongue, and he was still hard and breathless, but he started guffawing in earnest. Tony gave him a devious grin and Steve couldn't help but laugh even harder. Figures he couldn’t keep Tony Stark tied down for any length of time.

"Shoulda known I couldn't trust your hands," Steve said between gasps of laughter. He reached down and rested his hands on Tony's hips as Tony shimmied down to settle his weight just above Steve’s belt.

Tony leaned in started nibbling at his lips, freed hands roaming over his shoulders and chest. This close, Steve could see the shine in Tony's blue eyes brimmed around the darkness of arousal. Tony smelled of sweat and metal, the heat of sex radiating like hot coals from his skin; there was nothing Steve could ever find more alluring. It was all Steve could do to not close his eyes and drown himself in pleasure of the moment.

"Gonna ride you like the prized stallion you are," Tony breathed. He nipped at Steve's bottom lip sharply then withdrew before Steve could recapture his lips for a kiss. "Incoming trains, incoming riders, incoming sun, take your pick. I'll finish you off in two minutes. Got any objections, Steve, oh Sheriff, my savior?"

Steve laughed, his heart warming at the silly possessive titles. "I'm told I need a firm hand," he said. He bucked up against Tony's weight, watching Tony throw his head back and roll his body with the motion like he was made to ride Steve.

Tony barked out a laugh as he rode through a particularly hard buck. He grabbed onto Steve's hat on his head, ropes still trailing from his wrist, and planted the other hand flat on Steve's chest. "Nuthin’ firmer than a blacksmith's hands."

Steve couldn't resist. He stilled his movements and pulled Tony down for a wet kiss, allowing Tony to reach between them to unbuckle his belt at long last.

Nuthin' firmer and more pleasurable than this blacksmith and his hands, indeed.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to know your thoughts.
> 
> If you would like to share this, [here is a convenient tumblr post](http://coastertoaster.tumblr.com/post/145351062685/fic-wild-ride-by-coaster-tony-is-the-damsel-tied).


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